Tears and Heartache
by catatran33
Summary: Will Michael and Fiona realize they can't live without each other? Or will it take something for them to come to terms with it?


NOTE: Unfortunately these characters aren't mine. They belong to the USA Network lol But I sure wish they did! XD

This is my very first fanfic... There's a lot of tears and crying... So go easy on me? lol

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_Assets are meant to be just that. Assets. A spy considers them as a way to achieve their goal for their assignment. Once a spy's mission is accomplished, assets disappear from the picture until they are needed again for another job. Assets are not friends. A spy never misses them. A spy never misses talking to them. A spy never misses their presence. And never does a spy ever show their emotions for an asset._

Although he lived in Miami, which was notorious for its women, Michael never felt the need to pick one up and have a one night stand. He had no explanation to as to why he didn't. And he didn't have a reason as to why he should. Sure, Michael's had his share of women around the world. One gets lonely on the job. All spies do.

But since returning back to Miami, he didn't have the urge to. He wondered why.

As he pondered this question, a loud knock came from his door. Michael was reluctant to answer it. Then again, it might be his mother. God knows why she would be knocking on his door. It could be an infinite number of reasons. Although Michael always dreaded his mother's presence, he's couldn't just walk away or ignore her. He really had no choice but to face the music.

The knock grew louder and more forceful, obviously expressing the impatience of the unknown visitor.

"Coming! Hold your horses!" he shouted, as he murmured under his breath, "…you impatient son-of-a-bitch." As he finally opened the door, Michael started to say something, but then just stopped. As the moments passed, he noticed he was being a complete idiot standing there. Say something damnit!

"Hi, Fi! What a nice surprise!" Michael said, somewhat sarcastically. Fi, not in the mood to pussyfoot around, pushed the door wide open and barged into the room. Taken aback a little by her fowl mood, he mockingly said, "Well, hello to you too, Michael!" and closed the door.

Unfortunately, a pissed off Fiona is similar to a sniper rifle about to fire… and its target? YOU.

"Oh, god… What have I gotten myself into now," Michael thought. He couldn't have possibly done something in the past few days to set her off like a firecracker. Michael had been off on a job earlier this week, and apparently hadn't needed—or at least wanted—help. Because of this, Michael had sustained some painful injuries to his ribs, a knock to the head, and more or less bumps and bruises all over his body. He wasn't really in the mood for Fi's rage at that particular moment in time, especially if it involved physical combat, which in mostly likelihood, it did.

After pushing her way through the door, Fi moved toward the kitchen. At the moment, she was sitting on the counter facing Michael, who was just walking away from the door. Fi was extremely angry with Michael. It wasn't because he did something that actually angered her. It's what he didn't do that made her angry. She had always known Michael had been trained to be independent and emotionless, as most spies are taught to do. She understood the reason behind that logic. But in this case, she hated that damn spy training. If it we any other person in the world, she would not have cared. But with Michael, it was completely different. In all honesty, Fiona had an emotional side, despite her feisty exterior. She cared for Michael. There was no doubt in her mind. But Michael played with her. She never knew how he felt about her. Never had she seen Michael respond with any emotion in the time she'd known him. And Fi had known him for a LONG time.

"Uh, is there any reason for your visit, Fi?" Michael asked. Obviously she had a reason; he was just too hard headed to know what it was.

"Yes. There is," Fi replied in a stone-cold voice.

As if walking on pins and needles, Michael approached with caution. He knew Fi was capable of sudden "attacks"—a countless number of experiences he'd like to forget. He stopped about three feet in front of her, still weary of what she might do or say. "Westen, get a grip on yourself! It's not like she's gonna kill you or anything for Pete's sake!" He thought to himself.

"Then, what is it?" He thought the question was innocent enough.

Guess not!

"Don't you get it, Michael! Are you that thick-headed not to see why I'm here!" Fi almost flew off the counter. With a gait of a predator, she walked him backwards until he hit the stairs that led up to the loft. Although he didn't fall onto them, he was too close for comfort. Another bruising was not what he had in mind. Warding her off with his hands, he could do nothing to protect himself. If he did, he'd end up fighting Fi or falling onto the stairs. It was a lose-lose situation. "You didn't have to go on that dumb ass job by yourself! Why didn't you ask for help?! Why?!"

He almost shouted back, but reined in his temper enough to speak with an even tone. "I didn't need it."

"Like hell you didn't! We're your friends, Michael! We—"

"I don't have any friends, Fi."

His calm, deaf tone made Fi look at him. Although his features gave no way to how he felt, his eyes told a different story all on their own. Fi had never seen it before, and it shocked her enough that it stopped her in her rambling. She asked softly, "What are you talking about?"

Meeting her eyes, Michael coldly replied, "I said, I have no friends." He paused. "I have no one. Not you. Not Sam. Nobody."

"How can you say that, Michael?! You do have friends who care for you! Why don't you consider anyone as a friend, huh?! Why do you close yourself off from everyone?!"

He couldn't explain it to her. He probably never could. It wasn't that he didn't want friends. It was just because it was out of the question. It always was. With no answer to give, Michael softly pushed Fi aside and moved over to sit on the mattress in the middle of the room. Fi followed and sat right next to him.

"Why can't you tell me, Michael?" Fi implored.

He just shook his head and brushed his hand through his hair. There was nothing to say. Nothing at all. He had no friends. He hated opening up. And he hated showing his true feelings. Period.

"Michael?"

"Just drop it, Fi!" Michael yelled, with more power behind it than he had anticipated.

Fi yelled just as hard. "No! I'm not going to drop it!" Fi grabbed his shoulder and made him face her head-on. "I care for you, Michael. You may not know it, but I do. And if you think otherwise, forget it!" Michael's angry eyes bored into Fi's. "How long have I known you, Michael?! Years! And never once did you think I cared for you, even after you left me?!" Fi moved her hand from his shoulder to his cheek. Michael flinched, and closed his eyes before opening them again. Lowering her voice, she spoke with more intensity. "Don't you care, Michael? Don't you realize what your life means to others? What it means to us? Your mom, Nate, Sam..." She paused and looked directly into his eyes. "… Me."

Michael took a moment to think through what Fi said. When did he ever consider what the people around him thought of him? Never. He might not give a damn about his life, but it meant a lot more to others than he had realized. If he died, what would happen to them? His mom had once told him that Nate had gotten into serious trouble after he'd left to become a spy. Would Nate keep going in that direction if he were gone? And what about Fi? What would happen if he had died on the job and never got to say goodbye to her? Did she really care that much? While all these questions were going through his mind, his anger dissipated. Michael realized Fi was helping him understand what would happen if he were ever to disappear and never come back.

He moved his hands slowly to the hand that was caressing his cheek. He looked up and saw Fi with a sparkle in her eye. But why the sparkle? What was it? He didn't know. He never had been clever enough to decipher it. Staring into her eyes now, he understood the reason as to why she had come here. Fi was worried about him. He'd gone off without any help and had nearly gotten himself killed. No one had known where he was. And no one would have been able to reach him.

In the sincerest tone of voice he could muster, Michael apologized. He lifted her hand off his cheek and laid it on his thigh with both his large hands covering her small one. "I'm sorry, Fi. I'm sorry I didn't tell you." He couldn't look up at her, so he kept his head bent, focusing on her hand that was so dainty in his. "But I couldn't. I just couldn't. It's training I can't get rid of. No matter how hard I try, it's never going to go away." He rubbed her hand softly between his two, and continued. "I just couldn't risk it. If anything ever happened to…" He hesitated. "If anything ever happened to you…" He lifted his head and gazed into Fi's eyes. They were on the verge of tears. Trying to conceal it, Fi fluttered her eyelashes to keep from crying in front of the man who had so long been almost everything to her. He sweetly rubbed her forearm with the back of his index finger to comfort her. Michael, with enough courage to continue, softly said, "I don't know if I could ever forgive myself."

As he spoke these final words, he caressed her soft face with his hands. Michael didn't know it, but his heart was aching, and so was Fi's. There was nothing left to say.

How could he have been so blind all these years? How could he hurt this beautiful woman? She cared for him more than he cared for himself. And in just a span of a half hour, he had finally come to realize what a life he had.

Once Michael caressed her skin, every bit of strength that she had to hold back her salty tears was gone. Her tears ran down her face and onto Michael's loving hands. After all these years, it finally came to this moment. This moment where he was finally telling her something that she'd known for so long.

Michael's eyes started to glaze over as he watched Fi crying in front of him. She was strong, but she wasn't as strong as she seemed. Michael gently brushed the tears away with his thumbs and sweetly kissed the crown of her head. When he looked down into her face, she was still crying, but her eyes were different. Her eyes were begging him, pleading with him.

With his hands still caressing her face, he ran his thumbs back and forth across her tender mouth. She had the most kissable lips. He could never get enough of her, and knew that he never would. Both of their hearts were aching for each other. And both were breathing hard, anticipating of what was about to happen next.

It had been so long. When was the last time he ever opened up to her like this? When was the last time he'd ever held her so close? Michael missed this. He'd never realized it before, but he did now. He missed caressing her soft skin, her delicate features, and her beautiful face. He missed everything about her. And when she'd dated Campbell, it killed him to see her love another man. Although Michael would never admit it to himself, he lived through hell because he should have been the one with her, not Campbell! But, he wanted Fi to be happy, and if she were happy with Campbell then so be it.

He could remember her sweet kisses. The way she'd softly suck his bottom lip. The way she'd kiss him with unleashed passion. She was his, and no one else's. He could recall the sweet words that were murmured between them and the pleasure they both felt when their hands explored each other. Her touch was that of an angel's, healing and lifting him up to heaven's gates. How could he react so powerfully to just a single touch? He'd always wondered what Fi did to him, but he could never explain why. And when they joined together, it was as if they were meant for each other.

Michael couldn't take it anymore. He just had to have her. Hold her. Taste her. Kiss her. Make love to her.

With one final pass of his thumbs across her delectable lips, Michael lowered his face slowly towards hers, watching her close her eyes with the force of the passion building up within her. He softly kissed her lips, soft enough for Michael to think that it hadn't even happened. But he heard Fi sigh with pleasure at the slight intimate contact. He tenderly kissed her again, savoring every bit of Fi he could. Michael sealed their lips with a sweet, sweet suction that told Fi that he would take all of her in if he could. Long, slow, and infinitely soft.

Michael kissed her again, but was now bolder for he couldn't get enough of her wet sweetness. Michael delicately brushed his tongue along her lower lip, asking for permission to enter into its delicious portal. Yet, he needn't worry, for Fi parted her lips readily. His tongue teased her as it dallied longer along the outer lining of her mouth. When Michael heard Fi's soft moan, he finally let his tongue slip into her mouth. Michael used his tongue to stroke the roof of her mouth and persuade her tongue to stroke his back. They both sighed with pleasure when she touched her tongue with his.

Fi's hand moved from its spot on his thigh to his chest, where she could feel the hard muscles contract beneath his shirt. Rubbing her fingers across his upper chest, she touched his nipple through the cotton. Michael groaned from the pain that was growing down in his loins and the pleasure that was lifting him up to cloud nine. Fi continued with her ministrations on his nipple, bringing it to an even harder erection, causing Michael's face to grimace with sweet, sweet pain. Michael pulled his head back and pleaded, "Fi… please…" She stopped her hand and lifted her head up to meet his smoky gaze. "Please… don't stop."

She leaned in and kissed his shirt covered chest, as Michael rested his chin on top of her head. Breathing hard, he closed his eyes against the sweet pain of restraining himself. Fi wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his body closer to her, as if she'd never let him go. Michael pulled his head away to see her face. Her cheeks were still wet with tears, and seeing it made his throat tighten up. He had never fallen hard for any other woman because he already had the woman he wanted a long time ago. Laying his forehead against hers, he closed his eyes and wondered if he's ever felt as happy as he did with her. Even when they fought, he felt the same way. As he said before, even though they were profoundly unhappy, he never thought any other woman could have made him happier. At the time, he didn't know if it was enough. But now… was she?

Michael hugged himself closer to her body, even though it was physically impossible. They were both crying, realizing that they couldn't live without each other. Holding Fi in his arms, he softly whispered in her ear, "I love you." Fi hugged him harder, her tears falling on his shoulder. He repeated himself because he loved how it sounded, "I love you, Fi. I love you so much. You don't know how much I do." Pulling back to look into her eyes, he tenderly watched her break down. Fi tried to turn away to hide her tears, but Michael's firm, gentle pressure on her cheek kept her from doing so. "Don't turn away from me. Please? I've been wrong all this time. Forgive me, Fi. Please forgive me not telling you that I loved you sooner." His voice started to crack. The words he wanted to say died in his throat. A tear trickled out of Michael's eyes. Then another. And another. He was a broken man that Fi's love could only heal.

Fi brought up her hands to his face to wipe his tear-stained cheeks. She knew the pain he was going through. She felt it too. Just as Michael had, Fi clung to him tighter than ever, and whispered in his ear, "I love you, too." There was complete silence. Only their harsh breathing could be heard. Fi pulled back. The expression on his face told her everything. Michael loved her. He wanted her. And he needed her.

Fi softly said, "Michael?" He continued to look at her with passion and desire. Fi combed through his dark brown hair as she waited for him to speak.

Michael's glazed eyes showed a hint of sadness and love. "I don't remember the last time someone said that to me." He paused and bent his head slightly so that his blue gaze didn't meet Fi's. "Not many people have told me that they love me, Fi. For a long time I thought I was born not to be loved by anyone. I've grown up with little or no affection all my life. But now…" His midnight blue eyes met Fi's green ones. "I realize what I was missing." His eyes closed and tears came through the corners of his eyes.

Fi sympathized with Michael. She always had. Michael had a tough time opening up to people, even her. But she knew that in time he would have revealed to her why. And now she had her answer. Fi brought both of her hands to rest against his rough cheeks and lift his head until her gaze could meet his. All she could see was sadness. And his love for her.

Looking directly into his blue eyes, she softly said, "A lot of people love you more than you will ever know. You've just never let them in to show you." She kissed his forehead, just above his brows. "Let me in, Michael. Let me in, and let me show you."

Their lips met again in a tender kiss. It wasn't passionate. But they poured all their love into it. It meant more than any passionate kiss ever would. It was a promise; a promise that their love for each other would never be replaced.

They made love all night, whispering love words and giving in to the passion that had built up since their heydays in Ireland. Both Michael and Fi let down their barriers, letting the other see their vulnerable side. They knew their work would always put them in danger, but they'd get through it. They had so far.

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So? How did I do for my first time O.O? lol


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